


far from your eyes

by lotts (LottieAnna)



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Comfort, Insomnia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 12:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17849222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna/pseuds/lotts
Summary: Louis can't sleep, but he's handling it well enough.





	far from your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> IF YOU FOUND THIS THROUGH GOOGLING, KNOW ANYONE MENTIONED IN THIS STORY PERSONALLY, OR ARE MENTIONED YOURSELF: please, please click away. This is a work of fiction and nothing written in this story is true. Any accurate information used in this story is publicly available information about public figures, the rest is made up, 100%.
> 
> i've been feeling stuck so i'm publishing something i wrote one night when i couldn't sleep. unbeta'd/unbritpicked. enjoy!

Louis can’t fucking sleep. 

He doesn’t even know why he’s even trying, because he’s a shit sleeper, and it’s pretty much hopeless when he’s in a bed that’s not his. But here he is. in bed next to a snoring Nick Grimshaw, totally naked and nothing close to tired. 

Or, well, he’s exhausted, if he’s being technical, but he’s nowhere near falling asleep. 

He fucking hates this. He fucking hates Nick’s sheets, and Nick’s comforter, and the way Nick’s body is so fucking hot, and the way the blinds aren’t all the way closed, and the way he can’t tell if the thing on the ceiling is a spider or a speck of dust— 

One of the dogs scratches at the door, and Louis feels disproportionately guilty, like he’d somehow woken them up by lying here stark still and radiating anxious energy. Dogs are intuitive, but not  _ that _ intuitive, and anyway, Nick’s dogs are pretty dumb. 

Nick shifts, and when he reaches an arm out like he’s going to cuddle, Louis takes the moment as an opportunity to fucking move. He should probably let the dog in, and he needs to get out of this bed, especially because nothing sounds worse than being trapped in someone’s arms and wishing it felt as good as it did when he’s not trying to sleep.

When he opens the door, Pig comes bounding in, the scratch of her paws on the wood apparently not enough to make Nick do more than stir a little. When she leaps against his chest, he makes a pocket for her with his arm around the pillow, and she tucks herself in happily. Louis suspects that’s her usual bed, and he feels disproportionately guilty for having displaced her. 

It’s a dumb worry, though, and Louis shakes it off as best he can—not well, but it’s late, he knows he’s bound to linger on silly things—and quietly pads around Nick’s bedroom. The room is cold, which is probably on purpose, but the sheen of attempted sleep still rests on Louis’ skin, and the sweat and harsh coolness make for a very uncomfortable combination. 

Louis doesn’t think about how he pointedly ignores his own shirt and pants on the ground in favor of grabbing the sweater Nick had worn earlier and a pair of plaid pajamas, which pool around Louis’ ankles. The sleeves of the sweater flop at the ends, and Louis grins, a little giddy despite everything, as he rolls them up to access his own hands. 

Pig looks at him with an expression that Louis would swear is betrayal as he walks out of the room, as if she isn’t currently resting on the pillow that Louis would need to use. But, whatever. She’s a  _ dog.  _ She doesn’t actually— she’ll probably forget about where Louis should be sleeping as soon as he walks out of the room. 

He’s got this weird hope that it’ll be easier to sleep once he reminds himself that Nick’s apartment is a familiar place. He’s been here late at night before; he’s been here naked, and in Nick’s clothes, and he’s been in this very kitchen while Nick slept in the bedroom more than once. 

This isn’t really new, and he tries to tell himself that, but— 

It’s maybe easier to feel genuinely tired when sleep is a far-off fantasy, a car ride away at his own flat while Nick’s apartment is warm and inviting and  _ here.  _

Right now, sleeping here is his only option, and he feels suffocated by it. 

That’s not very familiar, and unlike all the other unfamiliar things about tonight, Louis isn’t a fan of it. 

Because Louis is a simple guy, he’s got one catchall solution for most of life’s problems, so he starts rifling through the cabinets for tea, which apparently attracts the attention of Stinky, leaving Louis with a 2/2 record tonight on waking up dogs. Stinky barks, which is surprisingly loud, and Louis manages to shush him by petting his head, but the damage has already been done, and a minute later, he hears the slow creak of a door opening, and Nick taking slow steps down the hallway. 

“Oh, it’s you,” Nick says, walking into his kitchen. He’s wearing a robe, and he’s got Pig tucked under one arm. Louis sees his shoulders visibly relax. 

“Did you think I was someone breaking in?” 

Nick shrugs, bounces Pig in his arm. “I brought my guard dog to scare off burglars.” 

“That’s a lot of pressure to put on her,” Louis says, walking up to scratch her head. He’s tempted to lean into Nick, but he’s not sure that’s quite an option. He’s just very tired, and Nick is tall and very comfortable when Louis isn’t lying stiff and awake in his bed. 

“She can handle it,” Nick says. “My little warrior princess.” 

Louis leans forward to let her lick his face. She isn’t anything close to a warrior princess, but he doesn’t feel the need to inform Nick of this. 

“Sorry I woke you,” he says, as Nick bends down to let Pig roam free around the kitchen. “Was just gonna make some tea.” 

“At this hour?”

“It’s just a little bit of caffeine. I doubt it’d make a difference,” Louis says, shrugging.

“Alright,” Nick says. “Were you gonna come back to bed soon?” 

Louis fixes his eyes on his feet. “Probably,” he says, trying not to let any weirdness or guilt seep into his voice, but apparently he doesn’t do all that great a job, because Nick goes stiff. 

“You don’t have to—”

“I can’t sleep,” Louis says, cutting Nick off before the conversation can go somewhere weird and self-deprecatory. “I don’t wanna keep you up with my tossing and turning and whatever.” 

“I see,” Nick says, and then, after a beat: “You’re wearing my clothes.” 

“You just noticed that?” Louis looks up, and Nick’s face does something weird that mirrors Louis’ heart, right down to the moment it lands on fondness with traces of something deeper and more thrilling laced into it. 

Nick reaches out to cup Louis’ face in his hand, like he’s not even thinking about it, and Louis leans into the touch as Nick runs a thumb along his cheek. 

“C’mere,” he says, tugging Nick closer so he can rest his head on his chest, and he’s delighted when Nick starts carding a hand through his hair. 

“You look so comfy,” Nick says. “Almost don’t wanna go back to bed.” 

“We could sleep standing up right here,” Louis says, and he’s mostly joking, but his eyelids are heavy, and he doesn’t want to move. 

“How about the couch?” Nick says, pressing a kiss into Louis’ hair, which makes Louis’ heart do things the rest of him isn’t awake enough to process. “We could put on a movie, maybe.”

“What movie?” 

“Anything you like,” Nick says. 

Louis would roll his eyes, except he doesn’t want to open them, so he blows a raspberry into Nick’s collarbone instead. “I don’t believe that. You’re very opinionated.” 

“If you choose it, I’ll watch it,” Nick says, a little indignant. “I can be a good sport. I sat through  _ The Notebook  _ for Harry.” 

“I’m not Harry,” Louis points out. 

“No,” Nick agrees. “You’re Louis. Which means you probably won’t make me watch  _ The Notebook,  _ so this is already not the worst movie watching experience I’ve ever had.” 

Louis smiles, a little fond, and he considers just leaving it at that, but he’s trying to do this right. “I don’t want you to fall asleep before I do, so I feel like we should watch something you like more than me.” 

Nick’s face falls into easy agreement, like that’s the most reasonable thing in the world to say. It probably is, actually; Louis’ got a tendency to get in his own way, and has been known to occasionally forget that his needs and interests can align with other people’s. 

“You realize you just signed yourself up for a sunrise marathon of  _ Love Island, _ ” Nick says. 

“Oh god,” Louis says. “I take it back. Anything but  _ Love Island. _ ”

“If you hate it, it should put you right to sleep,” Nick says. 

“Or I’ll just accidentally get invested,” Louis says. 

“So it’s a win-win for me,” Nick says. “Pig’s been wanting to catch up.” 

“Has she.” Louis turns his head and eyes the dog skeptically, mostly for show. 

Naturally, Pig just cocks her head like she has no idea why she’s being dragged into this. 

Nick and Louis make their way over to the couch, and Louis only judges Nick a little for having every episode saved on his DVR. He doesn’t even say anything, which he thinks is pretty impressive; he doesn’t even hate the show, just thinks it’s kind of dumb and overhyped, but it’s a fun thing to tease Nick for. 

“If you fall asleep on the couch, should I wake you?” Nick asks. 

Louis shrugs. “Whatever you want, I guess.” 

“Would you fall back asleep in my bed?” 

“Probably,” Louis says. “Or, maybe. I’m not great in other people’s beds.” 

“Need an adjustment period for sleep, then?” 

“More or less,” Louis says. 

Nick’s face twists into something almost sad. “Tour must’ve been rough, then.” 

“There’s a reason I used to sleep in the bus,” Louis says, not really wanting to get into a long discussion of the hardships that accompanied spending so much of the start of young adulthood bouncing between cities, feeling aimless and powerful and helpless in turn. “Maybe I should stay here tonight. Just in case, y’know.” 

“Alright,” Nick says, and Louis knows he isn’t trying to sound disappointed, but maybe Louis’ disappointed in himself, or maybe he just— maybe he’s trying to be patient with himself when it comes to this, and wants to know that Nick will be patient too. 

“Maybe another night,” Louis says, trying to sound calm and probably missing by a fair amount. “I can try and fall asleep in bed like a normal sleeper, or whatever.” 

He can see the moment  _ another night  _ registers on Nick’s face, and if he had the energy, he’d probably be holding his breath, a little bit. As it stands, all he can do is wait in strange, exhausted fear, a little frozen, but thawed by the relief of having said the words out loud. 

“I suppose we could give the bed a go next time,” Nick says. “If you’re feeling up for it.” 

“Maybe you should do a better job tiring me out,” Louis says. “Then you wouldn’t have to make  _ Love Island  _ do all the heavy lifting.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Nick says. “Just snuggle up and watch the show, my couch is very comfortable.” 

“Says who?” 

“Stinky,” Nick says, and, apparently taking the mention of his name as a cue, Stinky comes over and rubs his face against Louis’ ankle. 

Louis scratches at his head. “We’ll cuddle for tonight, then. Grimmy will get his turn some other night.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Nick says, then holds out his hand and makes a gentle grabbing gesture for Louis’. 

Louis takes it and lets himself be led to the living room, relaxing into the touch. 


End file.
